


Emotional Attachment

by disenchantedphoenix



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: brotherly relationships are the best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disenchantedphoenix/pseuds/disenchantedphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ahkmenrah is born, Kahmunrah wants nothing to do with him. He wants the child gone. But things don't go as Kahmunrah expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Attachment

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by bhishak's headcannon on tumblr.

 

It was midnight when Kahmunrah snuck down to his father's chambers, carefully, silently, lest the guards find him and drag him back to his own room. He stood in the doorway, incoherent emotions swirling in his stomach as he watched the scene in front of him. His father, sitting on the corner of the bed with a blissful look on his face, as if he almost didn't believe what he saw. Shepseheret sat beside him, a tightly wrapped bundle held in her arms. She spoke softly to it, making Merenkahre smile. As he continued to watch, Kahmunrah tried to decipher the feelings running rampant inside him. He found he could not. There were too many, and they were not pleasant.

“You!” his father said, looking up suddenly and causing Kah to jump despite himself. The happiness was gone from his father's face, leaving only anger. “I told you to stay away. I do not want you near this child!”

Kahmunrah bravely looked up, meeting Merenkahre's eyes. “Am I not permitted to see my own brother?”

“Such insolence!” Merenkahre snapped. “How dare you question your father and your pharaoh!”

Taking a small step back as a show of respect, Kah gave a glance to Shepseheret. His father's wife but not Kah's mother, she had nothing to gain or lose from his presence. She watched their confrontation passively, uncaringly.

“I only wish to know the reason.”

Merenkahre shook his head. “You know full well what my reasoning is. There's something dark in you, boy. You're too smart and too strange for your own good. Only evil forces could cause a condition such as yours.”

“Father-”

“No!” Merenkahre spoke sharply. “A boy who speaks like a devil is no son of mine. You will only bring bad luck to us all.” He turned away. “Now go, before I call the guards.”

And Kahmunrah did, still trying to process these new emotions.

***

_Fury._

That was one of these emotions. The anger overwhelmed him, consumed him until he wished that this child had not been born, that he could kill the thing himself. Here Kahmunrah was, a boy of twelve, almost a man grown, a future king no less, and all that mattered was Ahkmenrah. He was being fawned over, given every care and adornment that a baby could need, while Kahmunrah was given nothing but laughter and derision. It had gotten worse in the weeks since Ahkmenrah had been born. There had even been talk... but no, it was useless talk, and he would not stoop to think of it.

His father ignored him. His mother was dead. The servants were afraid to even look at him. He was the demon child, under the influence of evil, and Ahkmenrah was the golden boy, though he could not yet even walk.

One night, when the moon was full and the palace was all but empty, Kahmunrah snuck down into the nursery, which was deserted as well. He stared down into the cradle, eyeing the small form of his baby brother with a hatred he had previously thought impossible. It would be so easy to strangle the thing, right then and there, to bash it's head against the wall. But they would know, oh yes, his father would know. Or rather, he wouldn't know, but there was no doubt where the blame would be placed. It would go where the blame always went.

The child was staring up at him, and Kah noticed that he had eyes the color of the Nile. It smiled at him. Kah made a disgusted noise and reached down, thumping it across the face.

It had not been a particularly hard hit; he was smarter than that. But that didn't stop the thing from letting out an earsplitting wail, loud enough to send any nearby servant running.

Kah immediately panicked. If he was found down here, with his father's son... well, that was just the excuse Merenkahre was looking for to banish him, maybe even put him to death. In a fit of desperation, he grabbed the child and held it against his chest, letting the fabric of his tunic muffle the crying. He rocked it slowly back and forth as he'd seen the women do with other children, speaking calm, soft words. When it had finally quieted, he laid it in the cradle again, gently, so as not to startle it. Then he took his leave, and no one saw him.

***

_Jealousy._

That was another. 

His father loved Ahkmenrah. So much, in fact, that he had already commissioned a gift for the child when he came of age. The Tablet of Ahkmenrah, it was to be called. 

Merenkahre loved his youngest son more than anything. More than he had ever loved the elder. Watching his father with the baby was more than Kahmunrah could handle. The jealousy welled up inside him, causing him to turn away, eyes burning. He could still remember his father looking at him like that, with the utmost adoration, but that was before he had begun to speak and his father's love had turned to horror and disgust. 

It was midday this time, the sun high in the sky, and Kah snuck his way to the nursery again, weaving past guards and servants. The child was in it's cradle still, and Kahmunrah stared at it with derision. He noticed that it was sniffling, and it's face looked wet. Tiny sobs escaped it's throat. 

“What do you want now?” he scoffed. “So needy.”

It continued to cry, the sobs shaking it's body slightly, and Kah felt inexplicably sorry for it. “There are no wet nurses here! What do you want me to do? Nurse you myself?”

Nevertheless, he picked the child up and began rocking it again, thinking that maybe when he came of age himself and married, he wouldn't be so bad at this kind of thing.

“Quiet down, now,” he whispered, running a hand over the babies soft, fuzzy head of hair. It had been growing quickly lately, he noticed. “The nurses will be back soon enough.” 

Almost immediately, he heard footsteps, and was quick to place Ahkmenrah back in the cradle and slip away before he was discovered. 

***

_Fear._

How? How had he let this happen.

Ahkmenrah had been energetic, just woken up from his nap, and had wanted to play some stupid game. Kah had taken him from the bed and put him on the floor, turned his back for a moment, and when he turned back, the little boy was gone.

Now Kah searched all over the palace grounds, running as fast as his legs would carry him because he had to be the first to find the boy. No one else could know he was gone, or who had let him get away. He had to find him before the others, had to know that he was _okay-_

There he was, over by the river bank. Playing with _a snake._

Kahmunrah charged over and grabbed him, lifting him off the ground and away from the poisonous animal. “Don't ever do that again!”

Ahkmenrah stopped giggling and gave him the most serious look a two year old could manage. “Sorry Kahmuh. No do again.”

Kah should still be angry, he knew, but those eyes were just too adorable. It wasn't too long before he felt his anger slip away. “Just remember, no running off like that. Let's get you back to your room.”

Halfway back to the palace, Merenkahre intercepted them.

“What do you think you are doing with my son?” he all but spit in Kah's face.

“He was outside. By the river. Playing with a cobra. I thought you might want that to stop.” He rather enjoyed the stunned look on his father's face. “Here; take it.” Shoving Ahkmenrah into Merenkahre's arms, he continued walking to the palace, not turning back.

“Bye, Kahmuh!” he heard Ahkmen call after him, and he's never been so relieved to hear his brother's voice.

**

_Annoyance._

“For the love of Isis, will you be quiet?”

Ahkmen would not. Stop. Talking. Honestly, was this normal behavior for four year olds? The boy had insisted that Kah come to his room again, even though he was trying to train. Considering that Ahkmen enjoyed watching him, he'd obliged. Just like always. But now Ahkmen was asking questions every other second, and Kah could not concentrate. Upon his outburst though, the boy immediately quieted.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. He pulled his knees up to his chest and didn't speak another word.

Kahmunrah felt instantly guilty, and he wanted to hit himself for it. The child was too sweet for his own good. He sighed. “Would you like to learn?”

Ahkmen immediately brightened up and nodded, running over. He was practically bouncing with excitement.

“Good. Now stand like this.” Kah demonstrated a simple fighting stance, which Ahkmen did his best imitation of. Kah had to try very hard not to smile. “And now try this.” He gave the air a swift, hard jab.

Ahkmen attempted to do the same, but he overestimated himself. The weight he put into the punch caused him to lose his balance and go swinging outward, and he would have fallen flat on his face if not for Kah, who easily caught him.

Kah couldn't help it. He laughed. “That was very good, little brother.”

There is was. _Amusement._

Footsteps in the hallway were quick to sober him, and he dashed out before he was seen. As Ahkmen got older, his father was becoming more and more watchful of Kahmunrah. Kah could not understand why, but he knew that spending time with his brother was becoming even harder.

***

_Love._

Of all the ways to die, this was not how Kahmunrah had imagined he would go. He never actually believed he would end up in his father's dungeons, awaiting execution.

Ahkmen had suggested they play a game together; toss a ball back and forth and whatnot. Kah insisted that at eight years old, he ought to have outgrown such things by now, but he always did it with a smile. Like a fool, he had taken the boy outside. It had been late, and dark, and for once, he had felt safe being out in the open with Ahkmen.

And Merenkahre had caught them.

And now Kah was sitting in a dank, dark cell, consoling a sobbing Ahkmen who had somehow managed to get down there.

“Everything will be fine,” he said softly, rubbing the boy's back. “I'll be okay. I'm... I'm just going away for a while.”

“Father is going to kill you, and we both know it.” The boy continued to cry into his tunic. “It's all my fault, just because I wanted to play a stupid game.”

“No,” Kah said, gently pushing him away by the shoulders. He looked Ahkmen in the eye. “Do not blame yourself. It's my fault for suggesting we leave your room.”

“Yes it is my fault!” Ahkmen insisted, with tears still running down his face. “I've gone and got you killed!”

“Ahkmenrah, what are you doing down here?'

They both jumped at the sound of their father's voice, and Kah tried to scurry away. Ahkmen held onto him tightly, though. Merenkahre only glared. “Get away from him. Now.”

“Father, please,” Ahkmen sobbed, and against all odds, Merenkahre softened a little. The sight of his favorite son in tears could obviously work miracles. “Don't kill him. I _need_ him. He helps me; he teaches me things.”

“What things?” Merenkahre asked sharply, suspiciously.

“He- He teaches me how to fight. And about the gods, and about our family. He helps me understand what the tutors try to teach me, and-” Ahkmen continued his list, and Kah had never felt more attached to the boy. He wanted to survive.

“Alright,” Merenkahre seemed to deflate, cutting off Ahkmenrah's frantic speech. “I suppose... I suppose he may live.”

Ahkmenrah smiled wide then, but Kah was too busy staring at their father. The golden son's magic really could work wonders.

“But do not think I won't punish you,” Merenkahre said, voice hard. He stared at Kahmunrah with loathing. “You may think you are entitled to defy my orders, but you are not. I will return shortly.”

Once they were alone again, Ahkmen hugged his brother tighter and more fiercely than he ever had before. Kah did the same.

“Thank you, little brother,” he mumbled into the boy's hair.

Ahkmenrah did not reply, but he hugged his brother even tighter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'll write a part two, if I can. It will be very, uh, different from this though....


End file.
